Skid Marks
by ibelieveinguardianangels
Summary: "We're sitting here while my husband is in an induced coma after wrapping his car around a tree. I think it's only right you call me Amelia." One-Shot. COMPLETE. AU.


**I'm going to start with a couple of warnings. This story is Alternate Universe and deals with character death (not a main character) and character injury (nothing graphic, but it is mentioned). There is a mention of suicide (unrelated to the character death), and use of alcohol. Please read at your own discretion. **

**I'm new to Grey's Anatomy so this is my first Grey's fanfiction. I know there is very little interaction between the two characters featured in this story but I wanted to experiment and see what would happen. **

**Thank you so much for reading. Your opinion is important to me so please leave me a review and let me know what you think. **

**I hope you enjoy it, and I'm sorry for any mistakes I may have missed. **

Skid Marks

"Do you think he crashed the car on purpose?" Amelia shook her head, but shrugged her shoulders at the same time. She honestly couldn't say. She clutched Owen's left hand tightly in between both of her own, her thumb toying with his wedding band, as she watched over him from the uncomfortable seat beside his hospital bed.

"He was unconscious when I found him. I didn't see what happened." Amelia's voice was barely above a whisper. She was scared of what would happen if she broke the quiet in the room. Briefly letting go of Owen's hand, she raised her left hand to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. She sincerely hoped it hadn't been intentional. Miraculously, the man had somehow managed to muster enough strength to drag himself from his car and almost to his doorstep. Had it not been for Amelia's curiosity and her instinct to look around for the cause of her husband's trauma, she wouldn't have even seen his pickup truck wrapped around a tree at the opposite side of the land he had purchased, squashed in such a way Amelia couldn't understand _how_ he had managed to get himself out of it. It was like he'd put his foot on the accelerator and hadn't taken it off until the car had collided head on with the trunk. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't figure out how it could have been done accidentally. Not in the circumstances. "He's been having a tough time recently. He's going through some stuff. His mom just died."

She knew he hadn't told anyone but her about his mother's demise. In fact, had she not been there for the phone call he'd received, she was fairly certain he wouldn't have told her.

"Why didn't he come and talk to me? I could have given him time off."

Amelia shook her head again, squeezing her eyes closed and sending even more tears down her cheeks. They gathered at her chin before dropping onto the bed beside Owen. "He wanted the distraction." She let out a humourless chuckle. "That's his way of dealing with things. He works and – and he _distracts_ himself. He makes it so he doesn't have to think about it." Amelia sighed shakily, absently stroking a finger down his cheek before returning her hands to clutch his tightly. She feared he'd disappear if she didn't. "I should have stopped him. I should have made him stay at home and grieve properly. I should have made him talk. To me. Or - or to a professional."

"Dr. Shep-,"

"Amelia." She interrupted, feeling the formality wasn't needed. "We're sitting here while my husband is in an induced coma after wrapping his car around a tree. I think it's only right you call me Amelia."

"Amelia." She corrected, coming to stand behind her, her hand resting in a comforting way on her shoulder. "You can't blame yourself for this. Dr. Hunt-,"

"Did the Tox' Screen come back?" Amelia interrupted again, unable to stop herself as the question popped into her head. It just, sort of, fell out of her mouth. She didn't have much of a filter at the best of times. It would be stupid to expect one from her now. Dr. Bailey didn't seem to be bothered, however, so she continued. "Had he been drinking? Was he drunk?"

"There was alcohol in his system." Dr. Bailey confirmed, but Amelia just stared up at her. She needed to hear her say the words. Dr. Bailey, thankfully, took the hint. "Yes. He was drunk."

Amelia sobbed, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. "He's smart." Amelia noted, aware that she wasn't making much sense. Her brain wasn't working as well as she wanted it to. Her thoughts were disorganised. It was expected after the trauma she'd experienced, but that didn't make it any less irritating. "He's so much smarter than this. He knows better than this. He could have _died_!"

She looked over at Owen, unable to comprehend his stupidity. He'd been so lucky. Perhaps 'lucky' wasn't the correct word. He'd survived with numerous injuries. There was a minor skull fracture that somehow _hadn't_ resulted in a brain bleed or serious damage, a scalp wound that had matted his beautiful ginger hair to his forehead with congealed blood and a concussion that would leave him with a monster headache for a few days.

His nose was broken and swollen, his eyes blackened by the bruising. There was a fracture to his right cheek bone. Amelia had the insane urge to smack him and fracture his other one.

The impact with the steering wheel had bruised his stomach, tossed his internal organs against his rib cage _and_ broken a rib or two. Not to mention his bruised sternum that Amelia could easily see over the collar of his hospital gown.

She knew he wouldn't be walking for a while, something that was going to drive him crazy. The impact with the tree had badly bruised his right knee and fractured his left ankle.

But he was alive.

He _was_ alive.

He was _alive_.

And when he was well enough to be brought out of the medically-induced coma, she was going to kill him.

"He's going to be fine, Amelia. You _know_ that." Dr. Bailey pulled up a chair beside her, taking a seat. She reached out to take her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We've got him under so he can recover and heal. You and I both know what Dr. Hunt is like."

Amelia nodded. "He'll want to be up and on his feet as soon as he wakes up. He'll try and push through the pain. Probably make himself worse." She sniffed, wiping her nose on the tissue that Dr. Bailey handed her.

"Exactly. We're not giving him that option. We're allowing his body to recover naturally without Dr. Hunt attempting to force it and causing himself more damage. Amelia," She looked towards her, noting the change in her tone. "Dr. Hunt – Owen – is currently classed as a suicide risk. I know nobody but Dr. Hunt is aware of what happened tonight, but because of that we have to have him on suicide watch. He'll be taken up to psych ward once he's well enough."

Amelia nodded. Perhaps being on the psych ward wasn't a bad idea.

She knew for a fact that Owen was currently in a bad place. His PTSD had been causing issues for a few days; Amelia had the bruises from nightmare-induced flailing limbs to prove it. He'd lost his mother and had been wracked with guilt because he hadn't spent enough time with her, and he hadn't been there for her. She'd held him as he'd broken down and sobbed (when he'd allowed her to) often enough to know that.

Owen needed help. Amelia wouldn't deny it.

"Amelia. He _will_ be okay. I promise you. Just trust me."

Amelia nodded. She had to believe it if _Bailey_ was promising.

**Thank you so much for reading.**

**I've been working on a collection of Owen/Amelia one-shots based on prompts I've found on the internet. Is this something people would be interested in reading? Do you think I should post it?**

**Please let me know what you think of this story.**

**ibelieveinguardianangels **


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